


Modulation

by cac0daemonia



Series: Clone Wars: Reconstruction Corps AU [16]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Brotherly Love, Clones, Cybernetics, Dissociation, Fix-It, Gen, Medical Examination, Prosthesis, Reconstruction Corps AU, Reunions, Sort Of, internalized ableism, thanks Kaminoans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cac0daemonia/pseuds/cac0daemonia
Summary: The war is officially over, but GAR units are still spread across the Galaxy to deal with war-profiteering entities like the Techno Union and Trade Federation. The 91st and Outer Rim Garrison seize Wat Tambor's Techno Union facility on Skako Minor, and discover ARC Trooper Echo in a stasis pod. He's safe now, but with everything that's changed since he was captured, he doesn't even know if Fives is still alive.
Relationships: CC-6454 | Ponds & Mace Windu, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives
Series: Clone Wars: Reconstruction Corps AU [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048891
Comments: 83
Kudos: 274
Collections: Echo&Fives





	Modulation

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for all the amazing feedback on my first fic! I'm just T_T <3
> 
> This one takes place a few months after "[That's not how it happened. This is how it happened.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033334)"
> 
> Thanks once again to [Crystalshard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard) and [Tate_The_Great](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tate_The_Great/pseuds/Tate_The_Great) for being amazing betas!
> 
> Again, I don't _think_ this requires any more tags or warnings, but please let me know if I should add something.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://cacodaemonia.tumblr.com/)

Echo’s not sure what’s more shocking: that he survived losing three limbs and was held in a stasis pod to predict GAR strategies, or that the war is over.

The first is… He’s not really thinking about that too much. But it’s fine. He’ll be fine.

The second… Well, Echo was made for the war, just like every other clone. Finding out that the whole thing, including their creation, had been orchestrated by the Sith Lord at the head of the Republic—Maybe that’s another thing to unpack later. But the war  _ ending _ ? And Echo living to see it? That knowledge is even more jarring than his memory of being unplugged from Wat Tambor’s computer network.

He and Fives had dreamed of becoming ARCs, and they had. They were the best of the best. Some other CTs aspired to ARF training or command positions. But at the end of the day, they were all clones, even the Marshal Commanders, like Cody, who ran the entire Third Systems Army—almost three hundred thousand troopers—alongside General Kenobi. They were products created to fight a war, and when there was no longer a  _ use  _ for the products…

So most clones didn’t let themselves think about  _ after the war _ . It didn’t do anyone any good. Echo had tucked those three words away in a corner of his mind and sealed them behind blast doors.

But now, it feels like the doors have crumbled away and the tiny corner has become a yawning Geonosian cavern. He’s fumbling in the dark.

Echo turns over on his cot on the  _ Benevolence _ , careful not to tug on the IV line in his left hand. General Windu and the 91st are on their way back to Coruscant after seizing the Techno Union facilities on Skako Minor, while General Di’s smaller garrison finishes mopping up there. Echo doesn’t remember much from the first couple hours after he was found, but Di’s commander, Keeli, and a couple of clone slicers had apparently been the ones to disconnect him from the stasis chamber and computers.

The commander had even sat with Echo while three medics poked and prodded him, removing the tubes connected to his left arm. After some disagreement or other, they also unscrewed two large bolts on either side of his neck and covered the spots with bacta gel and bandages. They were just at a rudimentary basecamp though, so they didn’t have the facilities to deal with the larger implants. Echo remembers them making notes on datapads the whole time, and muttering to each other about waiting for Tambor’s data to be downloaded, something about a chip, and consulting specialists. The whole ordeal had been painful and confusing—why did his skin itch every time they used a portable scanner on him?—and the way everyone kept looking at him made Echo feel scraped raw.

His thoughts had spiraled as he wondered how long he’d have before he was shipped back to Kamino. In the eyes of the Kaminoans, he was, after all, a very damaged product, but undoubtedly one they would want to study. Sure, the war was apparently over, but it stood to reason that severely damaged clones were still essentially at the mercy of the scientists.

Commander Keeli, probably realizing that Echo could benefit from a distraction, had spoken up, asking Echo what unit he belonged to. That was how Echo found out that the commander was one of Captain—now  _ Commander _ —Rex’s batchmates. He supposed it made sense, with Rex’s blond hair and Keeli’s light eyebrows, though the rest of Keeli’s hair was too short to determine if it was as dark as that of most clones.

Echo also learned that it had been over a year and a half since he’d been declared KIA at the Citadel. Something in his gut had twisted when he thought of Fives. Rex was alive, but what about Fives? ARCs tended to survive longer than rank and file troopers, but even they didn’t have high survival rates, especially after close to two years... Echo had asked Keeli if there was any way to see if Fives was alive, explaining that he was Echo’s only remaining batchmate. Everyone nearby—even the medics—had gone strangely quiet for a moment when Echo said Fives’ name, then the commander had smiled, squeezing Echo’s bare shoulder, and assured him Fives was alive. Before Echo could ask how Keeli knew an ARC from the 501st, the commander had been called away and word came down that Windu had ordered the 91st back to the  _ Benevolence _ .

That was five hours and twenty-seven minutes ago. All clones had a fairly reliable internal clock thanks to Kaminoan engineering, but apparently whatever Tambor had done to Echo made his  _ very  _ precise. He shifts again, unable to get comfortable with the… things on his back. He’s been trying not to stare at the scomp link on his right arm, let alone all the other implants and prostheses, but  _ not  _ knowing what exactly is attached to his back is somehow worse than seeing all this metal in his peripheral vision.

He’s covered with a blanket right now, though, and finally starting to warm up. The medics had settled him in at the back of one of the ship’s smaller medbays, turning the thin mattress’ heating unit on and telling him to rest. They’ve been giving him nutrients along with fluids in the IV bags, but they’ve also had him eat two very small meals. Echo thinks ‘eat’ is a strong word, though, as each time he was given three mouthfuls of a vaguely sweet mush. Not that he’s even hungry. His stomach hasn’t actually needed to function in so long that he got cramps just from those small amounts of food.

He’s one of only three patients in the room, and the other two are either unconscious or sedated. Echo can hear the low hum of the hyperdrive, and feel a faint buzz in the air that he doesn’t remember from the last time he was on a Venator. Across the room, the other patients’ monitors ping steadily with their heartbeats. Echo finds himself oddly distracted by the monitors and overhead lights. He keeps feeling something like air currents across his skin,  _ coming  _ from—which makes no sense—the monitors, especially. He tries to ignore the odd sensation, instead focusing on the medic sitting at a small desk, probably reviewing charts. Echo is grateful that the other clone is giving him some space, and the relative quiet  _ does  _ make Echo feel a little less jittery. Since when does he feel nervous around brothers, though? That’s not normal for a clone.

Echo’s worrying is interrupted an hour and eleven minutes into the hyperspace jump when Windu appears in the medbay, greeting the medic with a few quiet words before making his way to Echo’s cot. 

Every clone knows who the High Jedi Generals are, of course, and when clones from different units get together on shore leave or for joint missions, sometimes they talk about their generals. Usually Echo and the rest of the 501st regale their brothers with barely exaggerated tales of Skywalker’s death-defying exploits while Rex sighs and laments that his least favorite words in Basic are, ‘I have a plan.’ The 212th boys love to tell everyone else that they have the best general in the GAR. They insist Kenobi knows all of their names, and if Echo hadn’t seen the man in action, he would never have believed all their stories about him sassing enemies into making stupid moves that he can exploit. Oddly, Cody never has much to say, but he’s probably just being a professional. The 104th troopers all seem to think Koon hung the stars, though Echo hasn’t been around them enough to hear many anecdotes in person. But the way they talk about their general, you’d think he tucks everyone one of them into their bunks at night.

Windu, though. Echo has heard plenty of stories about him from the 91st boys. It certainly doesn’t make any tactical sense, but from what they all say, it sounds like Windu spends half his time in any given battle diving in front of shinies to protect them from blaster fire, or pulling gunners out of burning AT-TEs. 

Echo has never directly interacted with Windu, but he’s always gotten the impression from Skywalker that the man is unflappable but not particularly kind. That last bit doesn’t track with what Windu’s men say, though. Echo’s pet theory is that Windu doesn’t fall prey to Skywalker’s charisma the way so many others seem to, and the younger Jedi would  _ obviously  _ not be pleased with that. Echo likes Skywalker, of course. He’s a brilliant fighter, he’s smart, and he’s kind to Echo and his brothers. It’s just that he often seems more concerned with showing off than following the plan. Which—and Echo has never said this to anyone other than Fives—gets brothers killed sometimes.

Echo sits up in the bed, saluting, but decides not to risk standing up because he knows Kix, at least, would scold him for that, and he likes to stay on the medics’ good sides. “General Windu, sir.”

“At ease, trooper,” the general says softly. He’s taller than Echo realized, and appears to be only slightly singed after whatever fighting they dealt with when they took the Techno Union facility. “Skako Minor isn’t far from Coruscant and we’ll arrive in a few hours. I’ve arranged for you to be brought to the Halls of Healing in the Temple, unless you have any objections?”

Echo blinks. “N—no, sir,” he stutters, caught off-guard, “No objections…”

The general folds his hands behind his back, raising an eyebrow at him. “But?”

“Sorry, sir.” Echo keeps his voice carefully neutral. “I just expected to be sent back to Kamino.” He’s been holding onto a sliver of hope that,  _ somehow _ , he might at least get a message to Fives. Back on Skako Minor, he’d been about to ask Keeli to pass one along for him when preparations for departure had begun. Maybe… Maybe he can ask Windu? It’s honestly a ridiculous idea, asking a High Jedi General to deliver a message for a clone, but what does Echo have to lose?

The general’s lips thin, and he sighs quietly. “Echo—May I call you Echo?”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

Windu nods. “A lot has changed in the past few months, since the war ended. The Jedi have been made aware of a number of the Kaminoan scientists’ more…”—he grimaces—”inhumane practices.”

Echo blinks again. Inhumane? Does he mean—but the Jedi  _ must  _ have known about things like reconditioning and decommissioning, right? They were the ones who ordered the clones’ production, after all. He doesn’t dare ask, though, as the general continues.

“We should have investigated sooner. Blindly trusting them with the welfare of so many was an egregious oversight, and for that I apologize.”

Echo wants to protest. A Jedi apologizing to a clone? That’s absurd. Instead he just stares dumbly at the general, too shocked to form an argument.

“I’m afraid I have a briefing to attend soon and can’t explain everything right now,” the general apologizes  _ again _ , “but I want to put your mind at ease as much as possible. You will be cared for like any other sentient, and when you are healed, you can choose what path you wish to follow.”

Echo feels like the dark cavern in his mind is swallowing him up. He’s—this is a good thing. It  _ is _ . But he hasn’t thought further ahead than saying goodbye to Fives, let alone living a whole  _ life _ , with  _ choices _ .

The general must sense something from Echo, because he reaches out slowly and places a hand on Echo’s bare shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in. And I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to comm anyone before we reach Coruscant. I’ve been told you’re a member of the 501st, and they’re on Coruscant now.”

The room around Echo feels distant as a memory comes to him, every detail perfectly vivid: he’s receiving an unusually large data transmission—there are multiple fronts in a planet-wide conflict, and he has to assimilate all the data and predict the opponents’ next moves in 17 separate engagements. But there’s too much data, too fast. He can’t analyze it quickly enough, and his mind stutters, freezes. He’s suspended in a void for an indeterminate length of time, then he receives a reboot command from the local network and there’s a millisecond of all-encompassing pain. His next moment of awareness is akin to taking stock of his body—body? He doesn’t have a body—after a firefight, assessing range of motion and checking for pain and stiffness. When his functions appear nominal, he reaches back into the network to request the transmission again, but in two separate packets this time. His processing speed should be sufficient to handle that much data split in two.

“—cho? Measure, something’s wrong. Echo, can you hear me?”

Windu’s voice snaps him out of the visceral memory and Echo inhales suddenly. Was he holding his breath?

The general’s hand is still on his shoulder, but the Jedi has turned toward the medic, who’s already tapping at the console near Echo’s bed. When did he get there? And is there an air duct overhead that just turned on? That shivery feeling is a little stronger...

“Sorry, sir,” Echo says, reflexively, feeling like he’s been dropped back into his body but doesn’t fit quite right. “I just—ah!” he gasps, jerking and rubbing his left hand over the bare skin on his upper right arm, and accidentally hitting his temple with the scomp link as he tries to stop the crawling sparks under his skin.

Something pulls the scomp link away from his head and then Windu is bent down to Echo’s eye level. He’s studying Echo’s face, but addresses the medic. “Measure?”

“I’m not sure, sir. I just started the scan, but so far all his readings are the same as what we picked up with the portable scanners. He’s not in  _ good  _ shape, but he’s still stable. His heart rate is elevated, and—”

The scan. The portable scanners. The medbay lights and the heart monitors across the room.

“Stop—stop the scan,” Echo blurts out. He’s not in  _ pain _ , but the tingling is unnerving, the way it skitters over his skin.

There’s the faintest click, and the sensation recedes. Echo lets out a breath. He feels something wet slide down the side of his face.

Windu steps back slightly, and the pull holding down Echo’s right arm disappears. He looks down at it and sees that there’s a spot of blood on the tip of the scomp link. Ah, he’s bleeding, then.

Measure, mindful of Echo’s back, gently pushes him down to a reclining position. “What’s wrong, Echo?” he asks. “Why did you want me to stop the scan?”

Feeling like he’s fully back in the present again, Echo reaches up with his left hand, tentatively running his fingers over the ports on his skull and the implant over his left ear. “I could  _ feel  _ the scan,” he says. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but I felt the portable scanners, too. They were just… fainter.”

The general is watching them both, but remains quiet.

Measure blinks. “ _ Feel _ them…?” His eyes dart across Echo’s head and exposed upper body.

“Yeah…” Echo gestures across the room at the other patients’ monitors. “I can feel those, too, just a little. In my skin. But the scan just now was more intense. I didn’t—” He looks back up at the general and Measure, searching for the right words. “I think I can feel the… signals? Or energy?”

Measure frowns, but looks like he’s considering Echo’s idea. “That complicates things,” he says, turning to put on some gloves and fish a bottle and some gauze out of a tray. Echo holds still while Measure starts cleaning the blood from his face and neck, talking while he works. “General, we’ll obviously have to wait on the level 5 scan—and Tambor’s data, when we get it, may include the information we need”—Well, that’s certainly vague and unsettling—”But do you think this is something the Healers might be able to help with? We had already planned on consulting some prosthetics experts once we arrived on Coruscant—maybe the surgeons who implanted Commander Wolffe’s eye—but I’ve never heard of anything like this before.” He fetches a tube of bacta and dabs some on Echo’s temple, then covers it with a small adhesive patch. Pointing a finger at Echo, he adds, “Don’t touch that for an hour.”

Windu hums quietly. “Healing isn’t one of my strengths, but I’ve seen the Temple Healers accomplish amazing feats.” He turns back to Echo, his eyebrows pinched together slightly. “It appears that whatever the Techno Union did to you, Echo, is more extensive than we realized. I promise you, we will do everything we can to understand it and help you adjust.”

Echo takes a deep breath. “Thank you, sir. I’m grateful.”

The general’s mouth tips into the faintest smile. “No thanks are needed. And, as for the holo call, perhaps we should hold off on that?” He glances at Measure.

The medic purses his lips in thought, then addresses Echo. “If you really  _ can  _ sense something like”—he gestures vaguely at their surroundings—”electromagnetic waves, then there’s no way to know how a holoprojector will affect you.”

Even with Windu’s reassurances, Echo can’t shake the fear that, if he doesn’t take this opportunity, he might not be able to contact Fives again. “It doesn’t hurt,” he blurts out. “It just feels strange, and I wasn’t ready for it. Please, if there’s any way I can contact my batchmate, I’ll risk it.”

The general looks to Measure, who seems to be weighing the variables. He sighs. “Well, there’s no way for us to isolate you from electrical fields on the ship anyway, and all things considered, a handheld unit isn’t very high-power. I’d be hesitant to let you near the big projector on the bridge right now, but I suspect a small one wouldn’t be any more dangerous than being near these monitors.” He gestures at the rack of machines embedded in the wall by Echo’s cot.

Echo looks to Windu, hoping…

The general nods. “It’s settled, then. I’m late to that briefing, but I’ll have one of the officers do a search for your batchmate, then bring a holoprojector here. His name and designation?”

“Fives, sir. ARC-5555.”

Windu blinks, and Echo swears he actually looks  _ surprised _ . Measure, who had picked up a datapad and was taking notes, snaps his head up to regard Echo. He hadn’t been one of the medics in the tent with Echo and Keeli, but he’s giving Echo the same look the other medics did then. Measure and the general exchange a look, which is thoroughly bewildering. They know Fives, too? But even if they do, why would they have such an odd reaction to learning that he and Echo are batchmates?

Windu turns back to Echo and  _ grins _ . “I expect you and your batchmate will have much to catch up on,” he says, but in that Jedi way that’s hiding five more layers of meaning under the surface. He nods to Echo and Measure. “I’ll send someone right away.”

Echo watches him leave, then turns to Measure with a question on the tip of his tongue. One of the other patients’ machines lets out a series of beeps, though, and the medic hurries over to examine some readouts and probably replace the empty IV bag near the bed.

Echo sighs, resigning himself to being kept in the dark for now. Pulling the bedsheets back up, he tries to find a comfortable position. He fails, but manages to doze, at least. Fives has always been annoyed by Echo’s ability to fall asleep almost anywhere.

Twenty-three minutes after Windu left the medbay, Echo snaps fully awake to the sound of the doors whooshing open. A clone in a navigation officer uniform steps into the room, pausing until he gets a nod from Measure, and approaches Echo’s bedside. “General Windu asked me to bring this. It’s set to route through the ship’s transceiver, and I’ve already input ARC Trooper Fives’ code, so it should be ready to go.”

Echo sits up, snatching the sheets as they start to slip down his chest. The officer seems to be trying not to gawk, so Echo pretends not to notice as he pulls the sheets over his shoulders like a robe. He’d caught a glimpse of his face in a transparisteel pane earlier, and there’s nothing he can do to hide his gauntness or the ports on his head, but at least he can cover the implants on his neck and chest for the holocall. If he can actually get through to Fives, he’d prefer to freak him out as little as possible...

“Thank you,” he says, starting to reach for the projector and jerkily aborting the movement when he sees the scomp link instead of his right hand. He tucks it under the sheet and takes the projector with his left hand.

The officer nods. “Of course. You can leave it here when you’re done. Someone will come by to get it later.”

Measure approaches as the officer leaves the medbay. “I’d prefer to give you some privacy for the call,” he says, and Echo absently wonders if any of the medic’s batchmates are still alive, “but we don’t know how the projector will affect you…”

Echo smiles rufelly. “It’s alright. I’ll set it down on the bed in case—so I don’t drop it or something.”

“I’ll be right over here, then,” Measure says, offering a small smile, and sits at the desk a few meters away, pulling more datapads out of a drawer. Echo decides he likes him.

Arranging his prosthetic legs as comfortably as he can on the narrow bed and tugging the sheets a little higher, Echo places the holoprojector in his lap. He takes a deep breath. For him, it feels like he was at the Citadel just a few hours ago, but for Fives, it’s been closer to two years since Echo ‘died.’

Maybe this is a bad idea. Fives won’t even recognize him. There’s a good chance Fives will only pick up the comm from his wrist unit, anyway, but most ARCs carry holoprojectors, so he might use that or his bucket’s internal comms, both of which would give him a visual signal. The holoprojector from the navigation officer certainly isn’t tagged with Echo’s comm frequency, so Fives won’t even have any warning of who is calling. It’ll probably just be some indication that it’s from the 91st. What if Fives thinks it’s some sick joke and he cuts the comm?

Well…

Echo picks the projector back up and flips is over, adjusting the settings. Now he’ll only be transmitting audio, but he’ll receive both the audio and hologram. Guilt turns in his chest, but this is… This seems like the best option, right now. Less painful for both of them. Fives has always shown his affection with shoves and playful swats and elbow to the ribs, but he has a protective streak as long as the Hydian Way. If Fives sees him like this and can’t physically be here to get his hands on Echo and make sure he’s  _ okay _ , it’ll eat Fives up with worry.

Setting the projector back down, he takes another deep breath, bracing for whatever physical sensations it will generate, as well as Fives’ possible reactions.

As soon as Echo presses the button to connect, he feels that almost-breath on his skin, but now that he’s ready for it and at least has an idea of what it means, it’s simply distracting. He manages to only twitch a little, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Measure regard him for a moment before going back to his datapads.

The holoprojector doesn’t seem to be as… strong as the medical scanning equipment. Or maybe it’s something to do with direction, Echo wonders. The front of his body, which is closer to the projector, seems to be a bit tinglier than the back—

Blue light jumps up from the projector and resolves into a familiar face, goatee and all, though his hair is a bit shorter than usual. “Fives,” his batchmate says, looking off to one side, apparently distracted.

Echo’s heart feels like it’s in his throat. What do you say to your brother who thinks you’ve been dead for so long? When both your worlds have changed so drastically and you don’t even know what tomorrow will bring?

His hesitation—and perhaps the lack of visual on a holocall—gets Fives’ attention. He frowns, voice ticking into the ‘I have things to do so stop wasting my time’ range. “Anyone there?”

“Fives,” Echo blurts. He should have thought more about what he was going to say.

Fives rolls his eyes. “Yeees, that’s what I said. Who’s comming?”

“It’s—um, okay,” Echo stutters. “Don’t freak out.”

Fives squints, looking skeptical. “Tup, if this is you, stop being weird. Spit it out.”

“It’s not—Don’t disconnect, okay?” Why is this so  _ hard _ ? From Echo’s perspective, he saw Fives less than a day ago, but he  _ knows _ his brother. Fives isn’t going to take this well.

Fives tilts his head back dramatically, the way he does when he wants everyone to know that he’s asking the stars themselves for patience. “Look—”

“It’s Echo!”

“What—” Fives clenches his jaw shut, scowling. Okay, he’s definitely very mad now. “When I find out whose comm code this is I’m going—”

Echo’s words come tumbling out in a rush. “Please, Fives, I’m sorry, I just—I promise, it’s me, okay? I didn’t die at the Citadel and—Um, okay, remember on our first day at Rishi Station, I was reading the equipment manual the sergeant gave us and Cutup tried to flush it down a vacc tube and—”

There’s a garbled noise from the holoprojector and Fives’ face disappears, replaced by a brief whirl of shapes, a sharp crackle of sound, then the light goes very dim. Echo startles slightly, sees Measure shift in his peripheral vision, but the medic doesn’t approach.

A muffled voice comes from the projector. “Fives?” Echo hears faint, rapid tapping—footsteps—getting louder. “You okay?” The voice asks. It’s another brother. There’s a thunk, then, “Hey, breathe.”

Echo leans toward the projector, not sure if his voice will carry with Fives’ projector apparently flipped over on the ground. “Fives, can you hear me?”

There’s a faint, low sound that Echo would recognize anywhere. He heard it some nights on Kamino, and in the transport when they left Rishi Station, and after their first firefight with the 501st, when a brother right next to Echo had his head torn off by a hunk of shrapnel.

“Fives, please—”

Echo hears a clatter across the comm, then blue light leaps up from the projector again. “Echo?” Fives’ rasps, before his face even appears again. When it does, his eyes are wide and the image wobbles frantically like Fives’ hands are shaking.

Echo feels a lump in his throat. “Yeah, it’s—”

The holo shifts, but Echo can still see Fives as he covers his face with one gloved hand and lets out a harsh sound. The brother with Fives—Echo can only see a white spaulder and chest, and darker rerebrace encircled by two white stripes—shifts into the frame and moves his arm behind Fives’ back, then the holo evens out, pointing at Fives again. He hasn’t uncovered his face.

“Fives, I’m so sorry. About the Citadel. It was stupid, I should have realized they’d just blow the shuttle.” Echo knows he’s rambling, but he didn't think this through and he can’t be there with Fives now, and he  _ hates _ this. “I’m sorry I left you, but—”

“Left  _ me _ ??” Five almost sobs, finally uncovering his face and staring at the projector like he can will Echo’s image into existence. “You didn't— _ I _ left  _ you _ !” It sounds angry, but Echo knows Fives. He puts up an angry front when he’s scared or worried. “Your bucket was—but how? Where have you  _ been _ ?” Even across the comm, Echo can hear Fives’ voice wobble, and see his eyes shining.

“I…” Echo has no idea how to answer that. He glances sideways at Measure, who is pointedly studying his datapads. “I don’t know all the details, but I was in a stasis pod.” That doesn’t sound  _ too  _ bad, right? It shouldn’t upset Fives more… “I’m with General Windu and the 91st right now, and we’re on the way to Coruscant.” Yeah, that’s more positive. “The general said the 501st is there now, right? We’ll be arriving in a few hours.”

Fives lets out a ragged breath, wiping a gloved hand roughly over his cheeks and sniffling. He smiles a little, but it looks like it hurts. “Is this even real…?” he croaks, glancing at the clone just out of frame like he thinks this all might be a hallucination.

Echo hears a quiet, “Your batchmate?” and Fives nods, smiling for real this time. He sniffles loudly, wiping his nose.

“Ugh, gross,” Echo teases, reflexively, and Fives’ face crumples again, though he’s still smiling. He turns his face away, making a sound between a sob and a laugh, but the image stays still. The other brother must be holding the projector, then.

“Fives?” Echo asks, uncertain.

Fives rubs a hand over his face again and takes a deep breath, shaking himself like he does when he’s having trouble focusing. “Yeah…” he says, vaguely, then turns back to the projector. “Okay… Okay. You said—a few hours?”

Echo smiles even though Fives can’t see him. “Yeah, I don’t know exactly where we’re docking yet, but General Windu said they’re taking me to the Temple Healers?”

He’s expecting disbelief, but instead Fives just smiles again. Huh.

The brother holding the projector tells Fives, “Go on, we’ll finish up here.”

Fives straightens. “Comma—”

“Go,” the voice repeats, “you’ll be useless now, anyway.” It sounds fond, despite the words themselves.

Fives rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine.” He looks back at Echo. “Okay, the Temple. I’ll head that way now… Echo, I—See you soon?”

“Yeah, Fives. See you soon.”

+++

The rumble of the larty and the smell of engine grease are comfortingly familiar to Echo as they leave the hangar of the  _ Benevolence _ . The buzz over his skin is less so, but he finds that he’s rapidly adjusting to the different  _ flavors  _ of electrical signals he can feel. Echo closes his eyes and pays attention, searching for patterns… A brief tingle sweeps past, and it has a similar timbre to the one he felt from the scanner in medbay—maybe an air traffic control scan? Next there’s a slight shiver across his skin, stronger on his left side. It has a rough edge to it, though, like their larty’s engines nestled between the wings overhead. Echo wonders if it’s from a ship passing by as they enter one of Coruscant's military transport lanes.

Judging by the warm light slanting through the viewports in the larty’s doors, it's late afternoon in the Federal District. Echo is strapped into a small, retractable seat at the front of the troop compartment, so he can’t see much outside. He’s irked that they won’t let him stand for the duration of the flight, but at least Measure agreed that he didn’t need to be transported on a stretcher. Once they’d determined that he wasn’t suffering any ill effects from being near the gunship’s engines and electronics systems, Measure let him actually step onboard, then looked him over with a portable scanner  _ again _ to check his vitals. Echo’s been trained his whole life to adapt to unpleasant sensations and focus on the task at hand, so he didn’t even twitch when Measure pointed the scanner at him that time.

Absently, Echo wishes Measure had accompanied them on the flight. Echo has always appreciated the GAR medics, but he thinks Measure is either a little shiny—unlikely, since he was assigned to care for Echo on the cruiser—or just a lot sweeter than most. He knows Kix and the other 501st medics love their brothers, but he’s seen how they tamp down on their emotions as more and more brothers die clutching their bloody hands. Echo understands. It’s a protective mechanism that all clones use to a degree.

He wonders if Kix and Jesse and Hardcase are still alive...

Shaking himself a little, Echo brings himself back to the here and now, plucking at the sleeve of the sleep shirt he’s wearing where it pulls tight over the bulkiness of the scomp link. It hadn’t been easy getting the shirt and bottoms on over all of his implants and prostheses, but Measure had helped him maneuver into the outfit. In the end the medic had had to cut the back of the shirt at the neckline to fit over the metal casing on Echo’s neck and shoulders, and turn the long pants into shorts after the prosthetic knee joints tore the material when Echo bent his legs. And despite all their efforts, they couldn't get boots onto the curved metal of his prosthetic feet. Windu had offered to lend Echo one of his Jedi cloaks for the trip to the Temple, but Echo had declined as politely as he could. As much as he was terrified of Fives’ reaction to his appearance, the thought of wearing Jedi clothing was just… Well, it didn’t feel right.

General Windu and Commander Ponds are accompanying Echo to the Temple, but they’re standing about a meter away, talking over a datapad in the commander’s free hand. 

Echo remembers hearing about Ponds going down with Windu’s first flagship over… Vanqor, was it? He’d somehow survived that, then been captured by Aurra Sing and some other bounty hunters running with Boba Fett, of all people. That had certainly been the talk of the GAR for a while. The kid had a vendetta against Windu for killing his  _ father _ —which, okay, maybe Fives is right about Echo holding onto grudges too long, but it still rankles that Boba had a  _ father _ , and the rest of them had a  _ donor _ —so he’d disabled an entire Venator, killing  _ brothers _ , in an attempt to take out Windu. Echo never got his hands on the mission report, but the various stories he’s heard say that Sing told Boba to execute Ponds and he refused, and then some Trandoshan bounty hunter stuck his neck out for the kid when Sing threatened to space him. Some stories claim they killed Sing, and others say she got away, but in any case, Ponds and the other prisoners ended up with that Ohnaka pirate, who allegedly charged an  _ exorbitant  _ ransom for them.

Echo would really like to get the firsthand account of that from the commander himself, but he’s not going to butt in while Ponds and Windu are talking.

Their discussion is interrupted a moment later, however, when the pilot’s voice from the overhead speaker announces that they’ll be touching down at the Temple shortly.

Echo’s stomach swoops.

For one thing, he’s never even  _ been  _ to the Temple. But what’s really making his pulse jump is imagining every possible reaction Fives could have to seeing him like this. Echo slips into his mind, only vaguely aware of his eyelids fluttering rapidly as the interior of the larty fades into the background. Echo’s attention is focused on a branching tree of possibilities. One branch starts with Fives waiting on the Temple landing pad, another with him not having clearance for that area and waiting by the main entrance, instead. Another, less complex branch, begins with Fives not being there yet, at all. Each node in the tree gets assessed, rapid-fire—

“—gies for the lack of company on the flight, Echo.”

The floor of the larty snaps back into focus and Echo looks up, trying not to appear startled by Windu’s voice. Judging by the general’s slight pause and the way he narrows his eyes, Echo isn’t entirely successful.

Windu seems to decide to let it go, though, continuing, “Commander Ponds just received a report we had to deal with right away.” The general adjusts his stance as the larty slows for descent, rocking slightly. “I’ve also been told that a good portion of Tambor’s files have already been retrieved, and once Intelligence decrypts them, any files pertaining to you will be transferred to the Temple.”

Echo blinks. Before he can think, he blurts, “Oh, I could help with that, sir. I know—” He frowns, not quite sure how to articulate his certainty that, if he could access the data right now, he’d have the threads unraveled in no time. “Well I guess I… still know how to do”—Echo wiggles his fingers at his temple, shrugging—“computer things.” It’s frustrating that he doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe what he seems to just  _ know  _ now, a bone-deep level. During ARC training he’d received basic training in slicing, but that was clearly inadequate.

Windu tilts his head a fraction. “It seems you’ve acquired a  _ number  _ of new skills,” he says, and Echo thinks it sounds a little somber, even for someone as serious as Windu. “While nothing can justify what you’ve endured, I hope that your new knowledge will, at least, serve you well in the future.”

“Yes”—The larty shakes a little as it touches down—”Uh, yes sir.” Echo’s not really sure how to respond to that, so he unclips his harness, which is, thankfully, easy enough to do with one hand. Even if that hand is suddenly shaking like Echo’s a shiny on his first deployment.

The larty doors slide open and he squints against the brightness as he stands. Ponds glances at his general then exits the ship while Windu hovers near Echo for a moment. And Echo appreciates the concern—he  _ does _ —but it’s strangely aggravating at the same time. Knowing full well that Jedi can sense emotions, though, he clamps down on that last one and takes a steadying breath.

Is Fives already waiting? Echo’s heart is hammering in his chest, but he forces himself to cross the troop compartment and step off the ship into the bright sunlight.

Echo is vaguely aware of Windu moving past him to intercept a couple people towing a stretcher. Ponds is over there, too. Echo can hear the usual dull roar of Coruscant traffic and the enormous shape of the Temple looms on his right, but…

Fives is there.

He’s in his ARC kit, minus the bucket, at the edge of the landing pad about five meters away. He’s lowering his arm, like he just finished saluting Ponds. Echo sees the precise moment Fives’ eyes land on him.

Fives blinks rapidly, opening his mouth and taking a half step forward. He snaps his mouth shut again and his eyebrows draw together.

Echo tries to say something, but he can’t think of a single word.

Fives’ hands clench into fists, and, over the rumble of the departing larty, Echo barely hears his ragged voice. “Echo…?”

Echo finds that all he can do is nod, and then Fives has crossed the distance between them and dragged Echo into a hug. He feels Fives freeze when his batchmate’s hands land on the implants across his back, but before Fives can pull away—probably afraid he’s causing pain—Echo latches onto his armor and doesn’t let go.

He was with Fives less than a day ago, but it’s been so long for Fives. Echo was  _ dead _ , for all he knew. And now Echo is back from the grave, and everything is different.  _ He’s _ different. And he knows this hurts Fives. He can feel his brother shaking, even through the plastoid.

“I’m okay, Fives,” he murmurs, pressing their temples together.

Fives makes a wounded sound, tucking his face under Echo’s jaw, where there’s more skin than metal. He wraps his arms tighter around Echo’s ribs, and Echo is suddenly aware of how thin he’s become. He feels strangely small compared to Fives.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Fives keeps repeating in between choked off sobs, his breath puffing against Echo’s neck.

Echo brings his left hand up to the back of Fives’ head, tangling his fingers in the soft curls there. “No, no, stop, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Seeing Fives like this is worse than anything Tambor could have done to him. Echo swallows, forcing out words through the tightness in his throat. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just—I didn’t know what to say…”

Fives isn’t able to completely muffle his next sob, but he shakes his head, still pressed against Echo’s neck. “It was my fault,” he croaks, entire body shaking like he’s about to snap. “I couldn’t—we just  _ left _ . I should’ve stayed and looked for—” The ragged noise he makes might as well be a blaster bolt to Echo’s gut. 

“Fives, no—”

“I just missed you,” Fives manages between gasps. “I missed you so much…”

Echo squeezes his eyes shut and reaches up to wipe the wetness from his cheeks before curling his fingers around the back of Fives’ neck.

“I’m here now.”

Fives makes a low sound and lets out a rattling breath. His arms squeeze a little tighter and he sniffles loudly. The collar of Echo’s commandeered sleep shirt is already soaked.

“Hey, don’t snot all over my shirt,” Echo mutters, pressing his nose into Fives’ hair and inhaling.

Fives makes a noise between a sob and a laugh, shuddering. “It’s very”—he sniffles again, and this time it sounds  _ deliberately  _ loud—“absorbent.” Echo hears the hint of a smile in that last word, and then Fives starts actively mashing his snotty nose into the shirt.

“Ugh!” Echo grumbles, but the fact that he’s smiling doesn’t sell it very well. “See? You’re gross.” He puts on a show of trying to pull away.

Fives just holds on tighter.


End file.
